Man in the mirror
by Rose de Sharon
Summary: AU, post-POA. What happened after Sirius escaped Hogwarts with Buckbeak, the hippogriff?
1. The escapee

**MAN IN THE MIRROR**

By Rose de Sharon

**Disclaimer:** any recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the Time Warner Brothers.

**Author's notes:**

- English isn't my native language and I don't have a beta-reader, all mistakes are mine.

- I am a Sirius Black-fan, which means I don't appreciate Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape ;-)

* * *

**Chapter 1: The escapee**

Sirius Black wanted to howl in joy.

Only ten minutes ago he was an imprisoned man, locked up in a room located at the top of one of Hogwarts' towers. He was waiting for the Dementors to give him _"The Kiss"_, a procedure allowing the ghostly-looking creatures to absorb the soul of a condemned wizard or witch, dooming their victim to remain in a vegetative state for the rest of his or her life. And now he was riding on the back of a hippogriff, a large half-eagle/half-horse winged creature, flying through the starry sky and under the brilliant disk of the full moon. He was free! FREE AT LAST!

Sirius laughed and he spontaneously hugged the neck of the hippogriff carrying him to freedom. Buckbeak answered with a squeaking sound, as if it was surprised by the man's gesture of affection, but also welcoming it.

"We're free, Bucky!" exclaimed the ex-prisoner. "We're alive and free, thanks to Harry. To think a thirteen-year-old has made us escape the clutches of the Dementors, the Ministry of Magic and even Snivellus Snape… That kid is a genius, plain and simple!"

Dementors were the wardens of Azkaban, the wizards' prison where Sirius had spent the past twelve years after being framed for the murders of his best friends, James and Lily Potter. But no one – including Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and supposedly the most powerful wizard of the world – had deigned listening to Sirius' claims of innocence, demands for a trial or pleas for an interrogation under Veritaserum. In fact, the Ministry of Magic had considered it as "normal" to jail a distressed twenty-two-year-old man after his best friends had been murdered in cold blood, under trumped-up charges that wouldn't even have fooled a first-year law student.

The whole magic world had turned its back on Sirius, and anyone in his stead would have succumbed to despair. But the young Black had survived his imprisonment by focusing on two feelings: love for Harry Potter, child of James and Lily and his godson; and hate for Peter Pettigrew, the ex-friend who had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort, a megalomaniac wizard with world-dominating ambitions.

Sirius had had an advantage over the Azkaban's inmates: he was an Animagus, meaning he could change into a designed animal at will. Sirius' animagi form was a large, black dog and whenever the Dementors would approach his cell, he would turn into his canine _alter ego_. As a dog, his thoughts were more primitive and thus his mind had been protected – unlike the other prisoners, who would scream in terror whenever the ghostly wardens would "feed" on their memories, leaving only horror in their wake. No one had known about Sirius' secret talent and it had helped him to resist the Dementors' visits. After he had learned Pettigrew was hiding in Hogwarts, he had slipped out of his cell, travelled all the way up to Scotland on four feet to track down the traitor in the castle's corridors.

Sirius' initial plan had been to kill Pettigrew on sight but Harry and his classmates, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had stopped him to do so, arguing that it would be better to turn Pettigrew to Dumbledore. Unfortunately, two things had impeded their plan: first, Remus Lupin, DADA teacher and Sirius' only remaining friend, got a lycanthropy crisis and in the confusion, Pettigrew had fled while Black was protecting the children; and second, the Dementors had launched an attack near the Forbidden Forest's Lake: wounded by the werewolf and too weak to transform, Sirius had been captured and he would have fallen prey of _"The Kiss" _if not for Harry's intervention.

Harry… The souvenir of the boy's face flashed in Sirius' mind and for a moment, he smiled at the stars sparking in the sky. The flight of the traitor had ruined Black's hopes for rehabilitation but at least he was alive, free and in good company with Buckbeak, the mighty beast who was flapping its huge, silver-and-white coloured wings in the winds. Harry had fetched the hippogriff and blown the window of Sirius' cell, just before handing him Buckbeak's reins minutes before his execution – all this to save a man he had thought to be a murderer just an hour before. Harry was truly his parents' son, with his Dad's face and courage, and his Mum's eyes and heart.

Sirius smiled at the Heavens, imagining the look on Cornelius Fudge's face after he had heard of him escaping once again.

"And greasy-haired Snivellus must be so furious," said the young man out loud. "The jubilation gone from his gutter-coloured eyes after hearing the news I haven't been "kissed" by the Dementors! Snape can nurse grudges like a mother feed her children, and he wouldn't have been bothered at-all to see an innocent man destroyed by those ghoulish creatures as long as it'd satisfy his twisted and ridiculous sense of revenge. But his wax-coloured face must be purple of rage by now, thanks to Harry!"

The ex-prisoner silently vowed to legally adopt his godson and offer him a real home. No one would prevent him to save Harry from his horrible Muggle relatives. Sirius clearly remembered Lily Evans, Harry's future mother, returning to school each September with red-rimmed eyes because her sister Petunia had made her summer holidays a living Hell by calling her _"freak"_,_ "monster" _or_ "abomination"_ in public and once, she had proclaimed _"people like Lily"_ should be burned at the stake. Petunia had refused to attend Lily's wedding with James Potter and hadn't even bothered to answer the announcement of Harry's birth. To think the boy had lived under that awful woman's roof for ten years… The poor kid!

Visions of a nice cottage in the country flashed before the escapee's eyes, where Harry would be allowed to play Quiddich all day along without being spotted by Muggles or spies from the Ministry of Magic… And maybe Remus Lupin could live with them? He was the kindest man on Earth but he could never find a steady job because of the terror provoked by his lycanthropy. It was time the guy had a good home, too! A cosy cottage with lots of rooms, roaring fires in the hearth, shelves loaded with books… and a windowless basement with heavy locks on a door made of solid metal – for Remus, during his "bad hair" night. Not to forget a barn filled with hay and food for the hippogriff.

Sirius patted Buckbeak's feathered neck, but then he suddenly grimaced: he hadn't escaped Hogwarts and the Dementors unscathed. Remus Lupin as a werewolf had bitten him many times, and he had several lacerations on his back and his forearms. The worst injury was on his right side, where Lupin's claws had slashed him deeply and he could feel blood seeping under his ruined Azkaban-issued shirt. During his imprisonment at the Hogwarts' tower, Black hadn't received any kind of medical help: why tend to a soon-to-be-executed man? After Harry and Hermione had gotten him out, he barely had the time to say good-bye to the kids before fleeing like a criminal… which he wasn't.

He knew by experience that werewolves' bites were dangerous three to four hours after their metamorphosis. Remus had attacked him right after his transformation, consequently the bites Sirius had received won't turn him into a full-moon-fearing monster – still, he was hurting bad! He also hadn't had anything edible to eat for hours. The recent events were taking their toll on him and he had went through a roller-coaster of emotions – fear of the Dementors, anger in his pursuit of Pettigrew, joy at meeting Harry, pain during his fight with Remus, utmost despair in his Hogwarts cell, hope from Harry – leaving him in a great state of great tiredness.

He felt like sleeping for a month but unfortunately the circumstances didn't allow him to do so; Sirius was a wanted man in all England and he had to flee as far as he could from his homeland. If he got caught by the Aurors (dark wizards' hunters), he would be submitted to an interrogation under Veritaserum, meaning he'd confess the name of his very young accomplices – including his beloved godson. If the Dementors ever caught up with him, Sirius wouldn't have to worry about getting Harry in trouble!

At first, Sirius had directed Buckbeak to fly north; it had meant less British ground to cover, and fewer chances to be detected by Aurors or the Ministry of Magic's representatives. Black glanced downwards and the moonlit sky provided sufficient illumination for him to make out the shiny contours of the Shetland Isles. The salty smell in the air confirmed to him they were indeed above the sea. Now was the good time to change direction and head for Ireland, before leaving for the Atlantic Ocean and then… the Caribbean.

"We're going west now, Bucky," said the escapee in the hippogriff's ear, tugging at the reins while repressing a grunt. "Once we've reached Ireland, we'll be safe. The British Aurors won't be allowed to chase us there. We'll rest for a few hours before flying to a warmer climate. Would you like to see the Caribbean Isles?"

Buckbeak screeched and Sirius was sure the beast had understood him plainly. Trust Harry to pick an intelligent hippogriff as a getaway car for his godfather! But then, the young man doubled over in pain and he nearly dropped the reins. Buck turned its head towards its rider, an unspoken question shining in the creature's golden eyes.

Sirius moaned loudly; blood was seeping through his left hand pressed on his right side, and he was starting to feel very cold in spite of the sweat covering his body. His heart was thudding against his ribs and his forehead was hot to the touch. Shock, he decided, coming from blood loss, lack of food and extreme stress. In Ireland he'd have to find medical help, otherwise he wouldn't be strong enough to reach their sunny destination. But he was penniless, dressed in rags and in company of a less-than-discreet creature. Going to a regular hospital was out of the question: his portrait had been shown at the Muggles' "Teeleeveeshion" to increase the Aurors' chances of finding him, so chances of being recognized by a doctor or nurse were too great.

Sirius gasped again, and then he gritted his teeth; no matter how bad he was hurting, he had to get away! Otherwise, Harry would be in terrible trouble, as well as Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Fudge, that pompous incompetent, wouldn't listen to the children's pleas and maybe – Sirius' heart twisted inside his chest at the thought – the Ministry of Magic would sentence the three teenagers to Azkaban for aiding a criminal!

That very idea revolted the young man, and he kicked at the hippogriff's flanks to direct him in the direction of Ireland. Buckbeak understood the silent order and inclined its left wing to turn west, but then the beast made some sounds before becoming agitated, inclining its huge head towards the ground.

"Whoa! Easy, Bucky. What is getting to you?"

The hippogriff obviously wanted to land, even though its rider had great reserves about doing so. They were still above the Shetland Isles and it would be too damn infuriating to get caught by Aurors just before finally reaching freedom. But the ex-prisoner knew, from his Care of Magical Creatures' classes during his Hogwarts time, that it was quite unsafe to upset a hippogriff.

"Down there? That is where you want to go?" asked Black, "But why?"

Realizing it was useless to ask questions to an animal, Sirius sighed and then he let his mount flap its wings to descend. Soon, they were spiralling towards the dark land and the ex-prisoner glanced down to make sure no one was on sight. Of course, it was difficult to see if anyone was hiding beneath the bushes in the middle of the night, but Sirius trusted Buckbeak's instincts and the sooner the hippogriff would do its business, the sooner they would take off again and fly to safety. He dragged on the top rein to give Buck the signal that they could land.

TBC...


	2. The Tangie

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes: **

- Details about the Tangie come from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter**** 2: The Tangie**

The hippogriff's claws and hooves touched earth. The huge wings folded themselves, and then Buck started to walk calmly on a rough track. On the right-hand side of the path, Sirius could see the flat surface of a sandy beach, enhanced with a few bushes gently bending their branches under the breeze while the eternal sound of sea waves crashing on a shore could be heard in the background. On the left-hand side, dark and immense silhouettes of trees rose up towards the moonlit sky. Sirius understood Buckbeak had wanted to land near a forest's edge located close to the sea, but to what purpose? Was the beast hungry and wanted a ferret-snack, or even an impromptu sushi dinner?

The answer came quickly: Buck pushed to a trot and soon, in spite of the feeble light, Sirius discerned a hollow pool of fresh water, in a grassy clump on the ground. The hippogriff grunted in satisfaction as it lowered its head towards the pool, opened its beak to gather a large amount of liquid, and then raised its head in a movement to help the water running down his throat, like the large half-bird it was.

"You were thirsty? You wanted a drink, that's all?" asked the young man incredulously. Part of him was relieved that the hippogriff's agitation had been solved so easily, but another part of him – the scared, anxious one – was a bit angry their escape had been stopped for the animal's convenience.

Sirius sighed loudly before dismounting. Getting mad at Buckbeak wouldn't help, besides he could also use a little break as well. The sound of gurgling, fresh water was making the man thirsty as well, and he could tend to his wounds in the meantime. Sirius crouched nearby the pool, ripped a piece off his shirt – that was easy, considering the state of his garments – and soaked it before pressing it against his right side. The contact of the cold liquid against his raw wounds made him groan in pain, and Buck briefly interrupted its drinking to look at its rider.

"Oh God, this hurts…" whispered the last of the Black family. Buck's golden eyes gleamed compassionately as it could smell the coppery sent of blood and the distress of the young wizard. For animals, wounds often meant death and the half-eagle/half-horse creature didn't want anything to happen to this man, who seemed to be important to the youngling who had freed him…

Buckbeak quickly finished its watering and then it inclined its huge head towards Sirius, silently prompting him to saddle up. The ex-prisoner eagerly obliged, holding the soaked cloth pressed on his bleeding right side and soon he was mounted; but suddenly, the hippogriff screeched loudly and reared, standing on its hind legs!

"Whoa! Buck! Calm down, I'm going to fall!" screamed the ex-prisoner while holding on the reins for dear life, getting very worried by the animal's sudden bad mood. What was upsetting his mount so much? The hippogriff reared again but this time, Sirius leaned forwards to one side of its neck, trying to keep the chains used as reins slack to prevent the beast from falling backwards.

Suddenly a huge creature appeared in front of the escapees, and Sirius blanched: it was a Tangie, a sea horse whose legend was well-known in the Shetland Islands. Tangies looked like ponies but their manes were made of seaweed instead of hair, and they specialized in frightening lonely travellers before devouring them underwater. This one was pale in colour, with horrible milky-white eyes but its hooves were a shining jet-black with very sharp edges. Shells were entangled in the seaweed composing its mane, and the beast looked absolutely furious, as if Buckbeak had invaded its territory – or maybe, thought Sirius, the Tangie just wanted a fight.

Buckbeak spread its enormous pinions to the maximum and extended its front talons, ready to strike the sea horse any time. The Tangie answered with an ear-piercing neigh and reared up as well, challenging the half-eagle/half-horse to come and get kicked by its hooves. Sirius tugged on the reins, trying to restrain Buckbeak, but the hippogriff was a prideful creature and it would never back down from a fight – even if it would imperil its rider.

"Buck! NO!" screamed Black in panic, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The hippogriff stroke its opponent with its front legs and the talons cut deeply into the Tangie's chest. The sea horse neighed in fury, and one of its hooves hit Buckbeak's belly. The winged creature faltered but quickly recovered from the attack: the kick had been cushioned by the thick feathers covering its flanks.

Sirius howled in pain as the brusque jolting was murder on his open cuts. Of all the rotten luck, being attacked by a monster on their way to freedom! The only way to escape was getting airborne, but the hippogriff couldn't be reasoned with: it wouldn't back down from a duel and the Tangie had deliberated provoked Buckbeak.

Both creatures screamed again in the calm of the night, and charged at each other. The Tangie reared up and his front legs kicked at the hippogriff's neck, but suddenly Buckbeak flapped its wings to get a more elevated view of the situation. Its talons lashed out at its enemy's head and one of its claws hit the sea horse's forelock. The Tangie neighed in pain, recoiling from the fight.

Sirius briefly thought Buckbeak would accept to fly away from the beach, but his hopes were crushed after the exasperated hippogriff attacked again, claws fully extended to destroy its opponent. But this time, the sea horse was prepared: he turned around in a flash and lashed out viciously, hitting the point of shoulder. Buckbeak screeched and fell to the ground, nearly crushing its rider.

Sirius gasped in shock after he had landed in a crumpled heap nearby the pool; his right side was burning in pain since his cuts were deeper than before and one of his ribs had snapped in two like a pencil under the impact. In his wounded state, each breath he drew felt like inhaling molten lava. But the hippogriff's deafening cries of pain prevented him from loosing consciousness: the danger was too great, for both him and Buckbeak, to surrender to weakness. The young wizard gritted his teeth and, by an enormous effort of concentration, morphed instantly into a large black dog.

Buckbeak blinked in stupefaction: the man had changed form! He had turned into a dog! But before the hippogriff could start to wonder how its rider could be able to do such a thing, the canine ran towards the Tangie, teeth bared, and bite deeply into the left hind leg's cannon. The sea horse neighed wildly as it couldn't understand from where this new opponent came from. Millennia-old fear of wolves seized the beast and it bucked in the hopes to make the "dog" loose its hold, but Sirius wasn't the kind to give up. Ignoring his pain, his jaws remained locked on the cannon, making the Tangie buck in every direction.

At the same moment, Buckbeak charged again. The sea horse, getting very worried, kicked violently and turned around so the "dog" would be trapped between the fighters. Buckbeak, understanding its strange rider would be in danger if the hippogriff lashed out at the Tangie, stopped attacking to look anxiously at the strange animal biting its opponent on the leg. Sirius whined softly, his wounds were making it impossible for him to hold on his perilous situation for very long. Finally, one hard kick disengaged the "dog" and a hind leg's hoof struck home. Sirius was thrown in the air and landed in the middle of high weeds, where he remained unmoving.

Satisfied that one enemy was dealt with, the Tangie turned its full attention towards Buckbeak, whose golden eyes shone in incandescent fury: the sea horse had dared to hurt its rider, companion in suffering and wizard-dog! Forgetting the pain, screaming in rage, the hippogriff flapped its wings and opened its very large, powerful hooked beak with the intention to tear some flesh from out of the Tangie's throat latch…

But suddenly, a brilliant jet of light came out from nowhere and hit the sea horse square between its eyes.

"_Languidus maxima!"_ yelled a man's voice coming from the forest's shadows.

The Tangie fell backwards as if it had been struck by a thunderbolt, while Buckbeak stood still, surprised by this sudden turn of events. Then its maritime foe tried to stand up, but failed miserably: its legs were shaking too much to support its weight! Having dealt with wizardry before, the hippogriff understood the Tangie had just been on the receiving end of a spell casted by whoever was hiding in the forest. It had perfectly done the trick to rob its enemy of any strength!

The sea horse tried again to regain control of its limbs but collapsed loudly on the ground, whining feebly and covered with sweat, completely spent by the weakness-inducing spell. Buckbeak could have seized the opportunity to strike at the downed opponent, but that was against its proud nature. It just screeched in triumph before turning a disdainful back on the defeated creature; the Tangie started to crawl on his belly towards the sea, desperate to put some distance between itself and the "haunted" forest!

Buckbeak watched as the Tangie left the battlefield, and then it turned its attention to the patch of high weeds where the dog had been thrown into during the fight. A rustling was heard and, minutes later, a staggering human form emerged from the ground: a pale-faced Sirius was holding his right side while some blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes could barely see and the ringing in his ears made him hard to think, but it was nothing compared to the pain crushing him alive like an iron maiden. The hippogriff screamed at the sight of its injured rider!

"B-Buck…" whispered the ex-prisoner between gritted teeth. "C-C-Come h-here, we… havta go…"

But his wounds, the stress and the shock overwhelmed the young man, who in his disorientation thought he was back at Godric's Hollow on that fateful Halloween night, looking at James' and Lily's dead bodies while Pettigrew was laughing maniacally in the background, and that finished him.

Sirius fainted.

TBC…


	3. The stranger

**Disclaimer:** the same as before.

**Author's notes:**

- Hippogriff-speaking, called _"The Noble Language of Griffin"_, is of my own creation. The // signs indicate when the dialogues are in Hippogriff-speaking.

* * *

**Chapter**** 3: The stranger**

The hippogriff gently nudged the prone form of Sirius Black by using its hooked beak, but it was useless: the young man was unconscious. He had been on the run since he had broken out of Azkaban, fearing the Dementors and the Aurors, haunted by his dreams of revenge and eating whatever he could, all this before fleeing again with death hot at his heels; but being injured during a fight between a Tangie and Buckbeak had been the proverbial straw that had broken the camel's back. Sirius' body had reached its limits as he had been weakened by malnutrition, injuries and twelve years of imprisonment; it would take weeks of convalescence before he could begin to heal.

Buckbeak instinctively knew its rider didn't have the luxury of so much time; in fact, it seemed they didn't have any time at all! Whoever the spell-casting wizard was, he was probably still around and they couldn't stand and wait until their "saviour" introduced himself. The hippogriff had been condemned to a beheading and its escape from the executioner's axe had been nothing but a miracle. Its friend, the-human-who-could-turn-into-a-dog, obviously also running from the law, was in dire need of help. Both man and beast were wanted beings in the magic world and they couldn't linger in this place any longer.

Using its talons, Buckbeak moved Sirius until he rested on his back. Then the claws on its left leg grabbed the young wizard's legs while those on its right's seized the injured torso. The hippogriff would have to transport Sirius like an eagle would carry a dead rabbit to its nest to feed the fledglings; it wouldn't be the most comfortable way to travel for the wounded man, but Buckbeak didn't have any choice.

/I wouldn't do that if I were you/, said a human voice nearby.

Buckbeak almost jumped out of its feathers: a wizard holding a wand had appeared out of nowhere and was standing right in front of them! Panicked, the hippogriff screeched and reared, extending its claws in the direction of the stranger and flapping its huge wings to make itself look bigger. Sirius moaned softly on his couch of weeds, but never woke up.

/Please remain calm, mighty beast. I am not here to hurt you,/ said the man, but Buckbeak didn't bring its guard down. In fact, the hippogriff positioned itself so it would stand above Sirius, protecting him with its large bulk. The beast was so focused on shielding the injured rider that it failed to realize the stranger had talked in a strange way; in fact, for an outside observer the man hadn't talked, but growled loudly.

/I am an ally and I want to help you,/ said the wizard, who was keeping a steady eye contact with Buckbeak. Then, he bowed in a very elegant manner, as if he were inside a King's palace instead of nearby a forest, with the sea roaring in the background.

The hippogriff stopped flapping its wings: the man obviously knew how to behave in front of a creature renowned for its proud nature. Then, Buckbeak realised in astonishment that the wizard had used a very familiar language…

/You… You can speak the _Noble Language of Griffin_?/ screeched Buckbeak, its golden eyes getting even wider.

/I know hippogriff-speaking, aye./ answered the man while hissing and growling sounds came out from his mouth.

The powerful beast was taken aback by the stranger's declaration, as it knew from past experience that humans speaking the Noble Language of Griffin were extremely scarce. In fact, a lot of hippogriffs thought it was a legend to lure their younglings to trust men, just to find themselves shackled and having to serve as beasts of burden for the rest of their lives.

/How is it possible? Too few humans are able to speak the _Noble Language of Griffin_…/

/It takes a very long time to master and that's the reason why men renounce to learn it. Human lives are short compared to those of elves' for example, or magical creatures like dragons and mermaids. I've started learning the _Noble Language of Griffin_ when I was a very young boy, and I still don't speak it very well./

Buckbeak hit its talons against the ground, still worried about the man's intentions. Even if he had defended them against the Tangie and knew hippogriff-speaking, it didn't mean he was a friend. It could be a trap led by their hunters – the horrible dark ghost-lookalikes who seemed very keen on capturing the wizard-dog, or the uptight Minister of Magic's representative who had come with a man bearing a mean-looking axe. Buckbeak caught a whiff of the human's scent and he detected a scent of cheap alcohol, old dust and… goats?

/Who are you and what do you want?/ asked the hippogriff sharply.

/My name is Aberforth Dumbledore and like I've already said, I want to help you and your rider, who is obviously injured and in dire need of help./

/Dumbledore?/ repeated Buckbeak. /This name isn't unfamiliar to me. It was how the old human in charge of the castle called himself: Professor Dumbledore./

/My unaffectionate brother,/ answered Aberforth, his eyes hardening in barely-contained anger. /Our family name is the only thing we share./

The hippogriff considered the man twice, and indeed he could see the resemblance between him and the one that clumsy Hagrid seemed to venerate. But Aberforth Dumbledore had a white beard cut more shorter, he didn't use glasses and he was wearing casual clothes instead of the embroidered robes his counterpart seemed to fancy. In fact, he looked more like a countryman than a wizard locked up in a tower, surrounded by books and artefacts.

/That's strange/, said Buckbeak. /You are from the same litter and yet you don't seem very close./

/We are not close at all. In fact, we prefer to pretend we don't know each other./

/Then why do you want to help us?/

/Because this young man,/ answered Aberforth while gesturing towards Sirius' prone form, /had been wronged by both the Ministry of Magic and my brother too many times, and I am sick and tired of seeing innocents suffer and die because of Albus' lack of empathy./

Buckbeak had no idea what "empathy" meant, but it had always trusted its instincts and this stranger seemed sincere in his offer for help. Besides, the Tangie could come back with friends and the hippogriff knew it couldn't defend Sirius against numerous enemies. There was also the matter of hiding from the ghost-lookalikes or the human with the axe, and – Buckbeak nickered softly at the realization – there was a strong smell of water in the air, meaning it would rain soon.

/Please, come with me,/ said Aberforth. /We have to find shelter from prying eyes./

/Put the young wizard on my back, and lead the way./

/If you agree to move over, I will use my magic to carry him; I've spotted a place nearby, where I will tend to your friend. I can transport him in a more secure way, since we must be careful to not aggravate his wounds./

Buckbeak screeched, not liking to entrust the safety of its rider to this goat-smelling wizard it had barely met, but it didn't have any other choice for the moment. With a low growl, the hippogriff slowly moved away from the unconscious young man with a warning:

/If you harm him in any way, I swear it will be the last thing you'll do./

Aberforth gulped loudly, knowing Buckbeak could rip him apart before he could even blink his eyes. Then he pointed his wand towards Sirius and whispered:

"_Mobilicorpus"_

Soft yellow light came out from the tip of the wand to fall on Black, and the limp body was gently lifted off the ground. Buckbeak blinked its golden eyes in amazement, watching its rider floating in the air as if he was resting inside a cocoon of magical light. It was an eerie sight to watch a human being carried this way, but Sirius just sighed and his features relaxed, a testimony that it didn't hurt him. Buckbeak also noticed that the yellow light was also stopping the young human's wounds from bleeding; it meant eventual pursuers wouldn't be able to track them down by following blood trails.

Aberforth started walking, his wand held high as the spell kept on transporting Sirius, while the hippogriff followed suit.

TBC…


	4. The shelter

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

- Hi! Sorry it took me so long to update… RL has a tendency to monopolize me.

- "_The count of Monte Cristo"_ novel was written in 1844 by Alexandre Dumas, the elder (1802 – 1870).

- Hippogriff-speaking, called _"The Noble Language of Griffin"_, is of my own creation. Dialogues between / / signs are in hippogriff-speaking.

* * *

**Chapter**** 3: The shelter**

The strange procession walked through the forest, away from the sea where the Tangie could come back and finish its duel with Buckbeak. Aberforth Dumbledore had taken the lead, his wand held high and projecting a continuous yellow light, the _Mobilicorpus_ spell that was entirely enveloping the floating form of Sirius Black.

Aberforth had picked up a large, battered leather backpack he had left there just before squeezing his way through a hedge dividing the wood from the rough track. The hippogriff followed the wizard, keeping a weary eye on their newfound ally while listening to the soft noises made by animals hiding within the woods. Buckbeak had to remain on the alert at all times to preserve its life, but also out of concern for the wounded young man it had befriended just a few hours ago. The Tangie was certainly not the only magical creature prowling around and another fight would inevitably draw some unwanted attention in this usually-quiet area.

The forest's trees were immense, raising their branches towards the sky like the diagonal buttresses of a cathedral. The forest was pitch dark and the only visible light was the one coming from Aberforth's wand, but the older wizard was sure-footed, paying no mind to tree roots or the ground's bumps and holes – as if he had been walking in the wild at night all his life, and it puzzled Buckbeak: the hippogriff knew by experience human eyesight wasn't keen and they had a tendency to stumble in the darkness. Hagrid, for all his knowledge of the Hogwarts' grounds, never failed to come back from the Forbidden Forest with ripened trousers over mud-caked boots.

As they walked deeper in the forest, the sounds of the sea vanished to be replaced by complete silence. Buckbeak knew how to move quietly since its hatching day, and yet Aberforth also walked without making any noise and he conscientiously avoided stepping on twigs and fallen branches – another intriguing piece of information for the hippogriff, which had thought all humans, including their younglings, walked with the discretion of an elephant's herd. But it suited Buckbeak, since silence made it easier to listen for the approach of potential enemies.

Finally, after walking for about half an hour, Aberforth stopped suddenly.

/It's here,/ growled the wizard in hippogriff-speaking. /This is the cave I've spotted on my arrival in this forest./

The half-eagle,half-horse creature raised its head and, in spite of the darkness, its golden eyes easily made out the rocky contours of a cave's entrance, hidden by bushes. Buckbeak sniffed the air, but it couldn't scent other humans or predators. So far, the older wizard had been telling the truth.

/Let's go, then,/ screeched the hippogriff. /We need to tend to the young human, and it will rain soon./

/Will it?/ asked Aberforth. /I haven't noticed the weather was going to change./

Shaking its large head at humans' incapacity to see the most evident things, Buckbeak entered the cave and found out that the place was wider than expected. Centuries of erosion from an underground river had sculpted stalactites and stalagmites, and on the ground there were little pools filled with water. Between two huge mineral columns there was a rocky platform, wide enough for two humans and a hippogriff to settle down comfortably. The cavern was dark and silent, except for the sound of water dripping from the stalactites, but also chilly as it was quite humid. Buckbeak didn't mind the cold – it had enough feathers and thick leather to endure any kind of temperatures – but the beast knew its rider would need heat to survive.

/Good hiding place,/ said the hippogriff, /provided to not light a fire./

/Yes,/ said Aberforth, /and we'd better keep our voices low. This cavern has a strong echo, I've visited it before./

Buckbeak nodded, and then it jumped on the platform using its wings as boosters. Aberforth followed but it took a bit longer: he could use only one hand to climb, the other was still holding his wand to make Sirius float in the air. The _Mobilicorpus_ spell would end immediately if the older wizard ever loosened his grip on his wand, and the fall would worsen the young man's wounds – and raise Buckbeak's suspicions!

Finally, Aberforth managed to climb on the platform. Then he moved towards its centre, and slowly moved his wand so the injured man would be lowered on the rock, ending the spell with the whispered word _"Finire"_. The soft yellow light disappeared and Buckbeak blinked to accustom its eyes to the darkness.

Aberforth got out from his backpack an object that the hippogriff had never seen before: it was a yellow box with a black handle on the top, and a big parabolic mirror at one end, covered with a clear circle of glass. The wizard pressed on a small device on the box, and a soft _"click"_ was heard before the box projected a great beam of light inside the cavern.

/Whoa! What is this?/ asked Buckbeak, impressed by the harsh white light.

/A Muggle portable contraption called a _"high-power torch"_. It can produce light for hours, without the use of fire or combustibles. And it doesn't burn, provided to not touch the illuminated end. Muggles have created it to see in the dark when they go camping – that's when they sleep outside for pleasure – or try to see what's inside mines or caverns. Wizards should really keep themselves informed about non-magic people instead of snubbing them in the name of a "superiority" that has never existed in the first place. There are some marvellous inventions in the Muggle world, very easy to use! Now, let's see…/ added Aberforth while taking items out of his backpack to put them one after another on the rocky surface, / Emergency blanket, first-aid kit, towels, drinkable water, I have everything I need to tend to our young friend./

/But why do you employ those things? Why don't you use your powers to heal his wounds?/ asked the hippogriff, lying down on the rocky platform next to Sirius.

/We have to be discreet/, said Aberforth. / That imbecile Cornelius Fudge isn't the kind to take graciously the escape of two innocents sentenced to death. The only thing that matters to him is his reputation and he'd rather swallow molten lava than admit he has been wrong. McNair, the executioner, must be eating his axe out of frustration for having his prize stolen from him – namely, your head. He'll want revenge! I've used a spell to move our friend because time was running out, thanks to the Tangie. But Aurors may still be out there, tracking you down, and some of them are able to detect the tiniest puffs of magic. That's why for now, I will refrain from using my wand./

Aberforth deployed an emergency blanket as a groundsheet, and then he gathered Sirius in his arms and made him lie down on the plastic. Grabbing at the young man' overcoat, he managed to get it off the narrow shoulders before throwing it away in disgust. Then Aberforth untied the ruined shoes, which fell on the platform with a soft thud, and tore the ripened Azkaban-issued shirt and trousers off Sirius' body. It wasn't a difficult operation, considering the state of the garments; the older wizard wouldn't have put those rags on a scarecrow!

Under the high-power torch's light, Sirius appeared very frail. His long hair was matted, his beard was unkempt and his skin was colourless, apart from the wounds marking his emaciated body and the runes' symbols tattooed on his fingers, arms and torso. His right side had a long, deep laceration which was slowly bleeding again. He had bite marks all over his arms, but also bruises on the right side of his ribcage and his breathing was shallow, a testimony that one of his ribs had been broken during the fight against the Tangie. In his naked and wounded state, Sirius looked just like the Edmond Dantès character in _"The Count of Monte Cristo"_ book, when he is fished out of the Mediterranean Sea after he had escaped the prison fortress.

Aberforth deployed a towel to cover Sirius' hips and preserve his modesty, and then he began to clean the wounds, using Muggle-manufactured antiseptics and cotton. Bandages were next, securing the dressings on the open cuts. The other Dumbledore had trouble dealing with the laceration on the young man's right side, since it was located in the same painful area where the rib had been broken by the Tangie's hoof: every time he touched it, Sirius would moan unconsciously and Buckbeak would growl, reminding their saviour of his promise about consequences if Black would be harmed. Finally, Aberforth managed to wrap the injured torso with bandages but he carefully avoided to secure them too tightly, otherwise it would hurt even more. There was nothing he could do about the fractured rib, however: the best thing to do was to make Sirius lie down comfortably, and wait until he regained consciousness.

/There! That will do for the moment/, said Aberforth, wiping his brow with his shirt's sleeve after he had finished his ministrations. /Now our friend has a chance to recover, provided he gets rest and something edible to eat./

/But will he have a chance to?/ asked Buckbeak. /You said that Aurors are still on the prowl. Maybe they'll find us before he gains enough strength to get airborne again!/

/We will cross that bridge when we come to it,/ answered the older wizard while deploying a woollen blanket on Sirius' prone form. He folded his jacket in a makeshift pillow, and placed it under the mop of long, dirty hair. /This young man wouldn't have ridden more than a mile on your back before passing out and falling to the sea, and then his condition would have gotten worse. We are doing what it is best for him right now./

/Maybe, but I don't like the idea of remaining here for too long,/ screeched the hippogriff. /Apart from the danger of being discovered by our pursuers, there is also the fact that a cold and wet cave isn't the best place to tend to an injured human./

/I agree, and believe me I would love to use my powers to accelerate his healing,/ sighed Aberforth. /I'm not a hero, and consequences would be dreadful for me if Aurors ever find us here – in the lines of a one-way trip to Azkaban. I would have trouble explaining why I was assisting a wanted wizard and a hippogriff convicted of wrongdoing! But like I've said, we've got no other choices right now than being patient and remain on guard./

Buckbeak remained silent after this, calmly observing Aberforth as he was tidying the rocky platform, stashing the dirty bandages and linens inside a smaller bag as the smell of blood could attract predators, and an _Encore_ of another fight was quite out of the question. Then, the other Dumbledore took a long swing from a metallic flask he had kept inside his backpack, and he sighed loudly as the Firewhiskey burned inside his stomach.

/Ah, that's much better. Nothing beats Firewhiskey to keep the chill out of the bones. Do you want some?/

/No, thank you,/ nickered Buckbeak. /Hagrid, the human who was taking care of me at Hogwarts, gave me some before that ridiculous trial in London but I spat the whole stuff back on his boots. That was the foulest liquid I've ever tasted in my life! No wonder Hagrid acted strangely every time he drank too much of it. But I am getting hungry so I'd rather have a few ferrets./

/I regret I don't have any of those in my backpack,/ smiled Aberforth. /I'll have to go back outside and hunt to provide you with a snack./

Buckbeak considered the human's proposition for a moment. The cautious creature wasn't enthusiastic at the idea of allowing their "ally" to get out of his sight – and tramping around in a forest at night, with the dangers looming above their heads, was pushing their luck a bit too far. But the hippogriff couldn't deny its hunger: the fight with the Tangie had left him with an empty stomach, and it needed food to regain the needed strength to protect its injured rider from predators. Besides, Aberforth knew the Noble Language of Griffin, thus it was logical to conclude the older wizard was a sympathizer of hippogriffs.

/Fine, but don't stay away for too long,/ conceded Buckbeak. /If you can't use your magic powers, you'll be in trouble if another Tangie shows up./

/Don't worry, I'll be careful. Remember, my own freedom is at stake here, and I won't do anything to compromise it./

Aberforth Dumbledore climbed down the rocky platform and promptly exited the cavern. The hippogriff listened to the man's footsteps until their echoes vanished into the night, and then it used its beak to press on the small device located at the top of the high-power torch, turning off the light. The cavern was instantly plunged into impenetrable darkness, but not for Buckbeak: its night eyesight was as keen as a cat, and it had no trouble making out the contours of the platform, the stalagmites and the rocks composing their shelter. Shutting down the high-power torch was also a precaution: if Aurors ever tried to explore the cavern, they would betray themselves by producing lights at the end of their wands, giving Buckbeak enough time to grab Sirius and flee once again.

The hippogriff sighed, and then it considered the young sleeping human. Sirius' face was very pale, but his breathing was getting a bit easier – a testimony that Aberforth's ministrations had helped. But Buckbeak instinctively knew its rider wasn't saved yet. They had to get away from here as soon as possible; the odds of being discovered were still too high, and the half-eagle/half-horse creature was more than aware that their pursuers would show them no mercy. They would have to depart as soon as the wizard-dog would wake up.

Sirius moaned softly, and then he shivered under his blanket. Despite Aberforth's care, he could feel the cavern's cold temperatures and it could aggravate his fever. Buckbeak growled, and then it deployed one of its huge feathered wings to lay it atop of the blanket covering the young man. Unconsciously grateful for the improvised duvet, Sirius sighed and his features relaxed; under his closed lids, the heavy darkness due to painful wounds changed for the quiet obscurity of normal sleep.

/_I am acting like a female protecting hatchlings from the cold!/ _thought Buckbeak in derision. _/But I don't care, as long as it keeps this interesting human alive. He must mean a lot to the male youngling – the black-furred one with rounded bits of glass before his eyes – for braving the ghost-lookalikes. I am still doubtful about this other Dumbledore, though: he seems sincere, but I can smell nervousness emanating from him so I don't know if he'd hang around if Aurors come here. That is why I haven't mentioned that my human can turn into a dog… It could become useful, in case of danger."_

Buckbeak looked at Sirius once more, making sure that he was resting peacefully, and then it rested its huge heads on its front legs.

_/__**My**__ human… I have never considered these loud, pretentious and tyrannical creatures as friends of the hippogriffs but here I am, hiding in a cavern and protecting one of them. I can't complain about how I was treated at the castle: I had a good barn, lots of food and drinking water, but I was nothing but a mindless beast for the humans living there – maybe not for Hagrid, but his clumsiness was very irritating. And there has been this incident with this stupid, yellow-furred youngling, and all of a sudden I am a criminal, promised for a beheading! This whole business was nothing but a blatant injustice, and yet no one of these humans ever stepped up to free me – apart from the black-furred youngling, and this wizard-dog./_

Buckbeak gently nudged Sirius's head with his beak. The injured man smiled in his sleep.

_/That's funny_,/ thought the hippogriff,_ /but the wizard-dog has black fur , just like the youngling. Maybe they are related?/_

TBC…


	5. The conversation

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

- Hi! It's been a while (duck projectiles) but here is a new chapter!

- This story is AU and this is my interpretation of the HP characters, so it may not be canon at times.

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Chapter 5: The conversation

Sirius' eyes fluttered open, chasing away the uneasy dreams that had plagued his mind for hours. He lay still for a moment, his body slowly returning to life while his brains tried to recollect thoughts and souvenirs. Completely disoriented, the young man couldn't comprehend where he was: the dim light showed only uneven columns of stones, the sound of dropping water could be heard in the background and he realized he was lying on a hard, but dry place. Warmth covered him from chin to toes and it was a blessing, since he could feel the place – wherever it was – was kind of chilly. But what had happened?

The light increased in intensity and Sirius gasped at the sight of an enormous hippogriff's head very close to his face, the golden eyes of the creatures fixed on him. And then, all his memories resurfaced: _escaping from Hogwarts… the flight to freedom… the Tangie…_

"B-Buckbeak?" whispered Sirius in a hoarse voice, and the hippogriff nickered in concern.

Sirius was too weak to respect the usual protocol but the animal was smart, and very aware its rider had been injured by the Tangie. Instead of taking offence, the hippogriff gently nudged the young man's head with its beak. Sirius smiled, and then he looked down and saw Buckbeak's left wing had been deployed over him like a giant duvet, keeping him warm. Then the young man realized several things at once: he was naked under a blanket and the hippogriff's wing, the terrible pain in his ribs had been reduced to a dull ache and his breathing was much easier.

"Hey, Bucky… Can you tell me what happened?" asked Sirius.

"No, but **I** can," said a voice in the background.

Sirius jumped in surprise and the brusque movement awakened the pain in his ribs. Buckbeak growled softly at the direction of whoever had spoken, as if the beast was scolding the intruder for frightening his wizard-who-could-turn-into-a-dog.

"W-Who's there?"

"Don't be alarmed, young man; I am not an enemy."

A shadow moved and the silhouette of a man appeared near the source of light. The stranger's face got illuminated and Sirius, recognizing those features, could hardly believe his own eyes!

"P-Professor Dumbledore?"

"I am a Dumbledore, but not a professor. And blood is the only thing tying me to the Headmaster of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Aberforth Dumbledore."

Sirius tried to raise his head to get a better look at the man; Buckbeak, sensing he needed help, slipped its front leg under the young man's neck to act as a pillow. Used to this reaction, Aberforth let himself being scrutinized. Sirius couldn't deny the family resemblance, as the features bore by the stranger were very similar to the ones he had grown up accustomed to during his years at Hogwarts. However, the eyes were a different light of blue, the beard was much shorter, and the Headmaster wouldn't have been caught dead wearing plain clothes instead of embroidered robes.

"You… You are related to Albus Dumbledore?"

"I am his brother."

"B-but… he never mentioned… having a family…"

"Why am I not surprised?" said Aberforth, rolling his eyes heavenwards. "His usurped reputation as _"Most powerful wizard in the world"_ would be tarnished if people knew about me, his less-talented-in-magic brother. Geniuses like Albus must have pristine relatives or no family at all. It's a matter of public image, you know? The _Daily Prophet_ would have a field day learning the Supreme Mogul's brother is a goat-breeder and a tavern-keeper… But I wonder what those journalists would write if they ever learnt the part Albus played in the madness of our sister."

"S-Sister?"

"Aye. Her name was Arianna, and she died very young."

Sirius tried to move but the bandages wrapped around his torso prevented him to do so. He grimaced in pain, making Buckbeak growl louder this time.

"Please keep still, young man. I've bound your wounds to the best of my ability but I don't pretend to be a healer."

"What happened… after the… the Tangie…"

"The belligerent sea horse attacked your hippogriff and you got wounded in the process. The collision between the Tangie and the hippogriff made you fall on the ground and you must have disturbed a stray dog accidentally, because the mutt attacked the Tangie as well but it got kicked it out of the picture; must be dead by now, poor thing. You collapsed shortly after I casted a _Languidus Maxima_ spell at the Tangie. I convinced your hippogriff I wasn't an enemy, and then we settled down in this cavern to look after you safely away from prying eyes. I am not too keen on meeting Aurors and being sent to Azkaban for aiding and abating an escaped convict."

"You… You know who I am?" asked Sirius, inwardly relieved Aberforth Dumbledore hadn't established the connection between the "stray dog" and himself.

"You are Sirius Black, framed murderer of James and Lily Potter, framed murderer of Peter Pettigrew, framed murderer of thirteen innocent Muggles and last but not the least, godfather and legal guardian of Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived."

Sirius almost sank back to unconsciousness out of relief after hearing that someone – apart from Remus and three teenagers – actually believed in his innocence. Aberforth reached out for a thermos bottle and presented him a cup of cool water, which was drunk gratefully.

"Oh, God… You do think I am n-not a c-criminal… I thought no one would ever think me innocent…"

"No surprises here either, you have learned by terrible experience that a little manipulation goes a long way. But you must be hungry from your ordeal, and I think it is time for you for some broth and bread to regain your strength. We will talk afterwards."

* * *

Moments later, Sirius was comfortably resting under Buckbeak's wing with fresh dressings wrapped around his torso and his stomach filled with chicken soup. The hippogriff had eaten three ferrets provided by Aberforth and Sirius had thanked the older man for his help to both of them, but the other Dumbledore had shrugged off the matter.

"There is no need to thank me, young Black. I am merely doing what is right."

"Still… there are a lot of people in this world that would give me away to the Aurors, or worse, to the D-Dementors, even if they had learned about my innocence…"

"That's true. Self-preservation can blind us from common decency, but so can manipulation and my brother is excellent in this."

Aberforth took a deep swing from his Firewhiskey flask, his eyes getting somber.

"Albus is a great puppet-master, I'll give him that. He plays people like marionettes on strings but what's worse is, the very few who can see through his schemes are invariably sent to an early grave, me being the sole exception."

"What do you mean? P-Professor Dumbledore is very high-regarded in the wizarding world. He has been fighting Voldemort for years… he protects Harry!"

"Albus is concerned only by his own fame!" snapped Aberforth back. "He has one obsession in mind, which is bringing down Voldemort just like he did with Grunewald in 1945."

"Yes, but…"

"Young man, what I am going to tell you will shatter to a million pieces the image of a kind-hearted grandfather figure with twinkling eyes that Albus has instilled in his students' minds. You will probably not believe me after I am done talking, but I want you to know the truth about my brother because it may be your only chance to preserve your life, prove your innocence and gain custody of Harry."

Aberforth drank another time from his flask: "People think I talk out of resentment because I am not as gifted in magic as Albus is, and for years I have been relegated to the shadows with a _"Jealous brother"_ label slapped on my forehead. But on my sister's grave, I swear what I am about to tell you is the truth. Are you willing to lend me your ear?"

"Yes…"

"Very well, then. As I've said, Albus isn't the saint people believe he is. He doesn't give a damn if people under his command live or die as long as it serves _"The greater good" _or, should I say, _"What's good for Albus"_. He is an able teacher, but that's it: just an able teacher who should have remained in his ivory tower. Unfortunately, he is also devoured with ambition and with his great powers it is a recipe for disaster. Only sheer luck and the sacrifices of people trusting him have allowed him to rise in the wizarding world."

"But how c-can it be possible?" asked Sirius, his back leaning against Buckbeak's front hind for a better comfort.

"Simply by manipulation! When trouble occurs, Albus is rarely seen around; he'd rather send men or women – or youngsters – to the front lines while he remains safely behind, hoping the strategy he had planned for months will turn out to be a success. If the fighters come back alive, it only "proves" that Albus' thinking was right; if they don't, then Albus plays the _"blame the dead"_ game."

"What do you mean?"

"For a hypocrite, the best way to avoid blame is to put it on other people's shoulders, preferably deceased persons because they can hardly rise from their graves to defend themselves. During the war against Grunewald, numerous Aurors had died and each time, Albus stated that if those heroes had listened to him, they would still be alive… or if they hadn't made an enemy of this person years ago, they wouldn't have been killed… or if they had studied harder in school, they would have escaped this ambush… if, if, if, the list goes on!"

"I can't believe Professor Dumbledore would blame dead persons!"

"Believe it, young man, because that is exactly what Albus is planning to do with the memory of James Potter."

"WHAT?" yelled Sirius, sitting upwards in spite of his pain. Buckbeak screeched in rage, its gold eyes fixed on the older wizard.

"Stay still, I'm telling you! Do you want your wounds to reopen?" said Aberforth nervously. "I haven't gone through all the trouble of saving your life to see you die from a broken rib piercing a lung! And please keep this hippogriff under control, will you?"

"I won't let anyone dirty James' memory!" growled Sirius between gritted teeth. "And I don't believe you!"

"I knew you wouldn't, but hear this: during our childhood, Albus was spending his time admiring himself in the mirror, so proud of his abilities that he looked down at our sister Arianna and me. One day, tragedy struck: Arianna was spotted by a group of Muggle children while doing magic outside our house; they bullied her so badly she decided to repress her powers and, as you are well aware of, it is the best way to drive a wizard or a witch to insanity. I begged my brother to help her but he refused, too caught up with his dreams of grandeur to be bothered by a little girl's whims. As a result, Arianna lost her mind and she died at St. Mungo's Hospital. Our father was so hell-bent on revenge against those Muggle kids that he ended in Azkaban. I was mad at Albus; I accused him of indifference towards Arianna, and guess what? He had the nerve to blame our sister for the whole situation, stating that Arianna shouldn't have done magic outside our house in the first place. _**He blamed a dead **__**eight-year-old girl**__!_"

Out of rage, Aberforth threw his empty flask of Firewhiskey across the rocky platform. Buckbeak let out a surprised growl.

"I was disgusted by his attitude, but it turned worse when we attended Hogwarts. Albus was the Gryffindor star pupil for seven years in a row. All the teachers sang his praises, predicting he would be the next Ministry of Magic right after gaining his diploma. And I was left behind, struggling in class except in the Care for Magical Creatures subject since my brother couldn't possibly care less about my education. Albus thought he had been invested by a mission: restoring our family name by becoming the most powerful wizard of the world, thus erasing Arianna's madness and our father's imprisonment from his impeccable record. And I couldn't do a thing to prevent this imposture, since I was accused of jealousy every time I would speak against Albus. So I learned at an early age to keep my mouth shut and my ears open, in the hopes I would unmask my brother's hypocrisy. Alas, Albus is such a good manipulator people never suspected a thing about him, not even during the time he got charmed by the Pureblood ideology."

Sirius' features paled at this declaration: "Oh, no… Please… Please tell me it isn't true!"

"I am sorry, young Black, but I am ready to see Arianna's grave profaned if I lie. During his last year at Hogwarts, Albus was literally under the spell of a handsome student who spoke openly about the necessity to cleanse the wizarding world from Muggle-borns and half-bloods. Oh, Albus was wise enough to avoid being caught listening to this peculiar student, but he admired him a lot. The year after graduation, they became close, very close… In fact, it ended with a love affair."

"Well, I am not prejudiced!" exclaimed Sirius. "Whatever two consenting adults do behind a closed door is none of my business."

"Same for me but you see, the name of this Pureblood preacher was… Grunewald."

"OH!"

"Yes, the very same who has thrown our world into a war at the very same time the Muggles were fighting in a conflict of planetary proportions. Albus and Grunewald went on with their relationship, but of course they had to keep a very low profile – remember, in the forties people weren't kind about _"the love that dares not speak its name"_ and Grunewald's followers would have killed him on the spot if they had ever learned about his intimacy with a man. But then, Albus got scared by Grunewald's megalomania and he ran away to join the Aurors a few weeks later; they welcomed him with open arms, too happy to have such a talented young wizard within their ranks. Imagine Grunewald's reaction after learning his ex-lover was fighting for freedom and justice! But here again, Albus' secrets and lies saved his life. Grunewald couldn't prove anything about their relationship because my brother destroyed every memento of the past – letters, tokens of affections – before joining the Aurors. He explained his "absence" by a long journey he made across the Himalayans searching wisdom, and thus he had heard of a war raging in England after it had been much too late. Albus trekking through the highest mountains of the world, what a joke! He loves his comfort way too much to travel like a sherpa!"

"What happened next?"

"Grunewald's allies were defeated in 1945 and he was slain by Albus. The whole wizarding world acclaimed the hero, not knowing they were actually praising Grunewald's former lover and early accomplice. When Albus showed up at my doorstep after the war, showered with rewards and accolades, I spat right in his face. He tried to explain he had been blinded in his youth by Grunewald's charisma and he had joined the Aurors to redeem himself for his past actions, but I told him to never show his mug in my tavern again, or else! The Ministry of Magic wanted to give him a position but Albus declined – it would have put him under the spotlight, and a journalist would have inevitably unearthed the truth – so he opted for a Transfiguration teacher's position at Hogwarts to, and I quote, _"Open the youngsters' mind to tolerance and make sure this kind of conflict will never happen again"_. Hypocrite, double hypocrite!"

"But… Maybe he was sincere… M-Maybe he truly wanted to make amends…"

"Aye, but Albus would never have the courage to admit his prior involvement with Grunewald. **Asking for forgiveness implies the courage to admit wrongness **and my brother would never do so. Albus, facing the judges and confessing his affair with Grunewald? Fat chance! It would have torpedoed his future career of Most Powerful Wizard in the World and he wasn't exactly keen on informing the magical world that he had fell in love with a mass murderer."

Sirius remained silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the amount of information Aberforth had given him. It was incredible to think Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster and the most respected wizard in the world, couldn't be the same man he had studied with at Hogwarts.

"I-I don't know if you're telling the truth about Professor Dumbledore," said Sirius, his flint stone-coloured eyes fixed on the older man. "But those stories from your p-past don't explain why you believe in my innocence. Nobody wanted to listen to my pleas, including your brother and Remus Lupin, the man I've been friend with for over twenty years!"

"Young man, Albus may frown upon my profession, but being a tavern-keeper allows me to hear and learn a lot of secrets – especially when my customers have overindulged on Firewhiskey. Ten years ago, I learned from an inebriated patron named Rubeus Hagrid about your friendship with James Potter and how you had been appointed godfather and guardian of Harry. At the time and like the other idiots, I was certain of your culpability in his parents' death. After all, you came from a long line of Pureblood bigots and your reputation as a disowned rebel could only be an act to make us believe you weren't a robe-kisser like the rest of your relatives. Then, over the years, I've heard astonishing news: firstly, you hadn't become insane in spite of the Dementors torturing you day and night in Azkaban and I know from personal experience that prisoners there don't last for very long: it took my father eight months to lose his sanity, then his life. Secondly, the fact that you never went on trial whereas Death Eaters – who had done worst crimes than the ones you had supposedly committed – had been given the chance to save their skins in front of a jury by giving out names. And thirdly, your godson had been placed to the care of the worst Muggle family the world has ever seen."

Sirius' eyes narrowed: "Petunia Dursley…"

"Lily's sister, aye. Albus kidnapped a baby from his parents' still-warm corpses to entrust him to a hateful woman. Arabella Figgs, Harry's babysitter, has told me many times in confidence that the boy was undernourished, dressed with rags and constantly bullied; of course, she couldn't say those things out loud because my brother has stated that Harry had to remain in this dreadful household – and woe to the one who dares contradict him! – because of _"blood wards"_ supposed to protect him and his step-parents from eventual assaults from revengeful Death Eaters. What a lie! Blood wards wouldn't have been enough to stop determined enemies from attacking Harry inside the house – not by demolishing the front door, mind you, but more subtle ways would have been found, like training venomous spiders to bite the boy, or a snake wrapping itself around his neck while he slept, or even a rat infecting him with the plague."

"A rat," whispered Sirius, thinking of Pettigrew.

"Arabella also told me that in ten years, Albus never came to the Dursley's house to check on Harry, simply to see if he was well cared for. That's strange, coming from a man who is supposedly so concerned for the boy! But Albus knew his uncle and aunt would be awful to him and he deliberately condemned an orphaned baby to ten dark and difficult years."

"Why?"

"So Harry wouldn't have any other choice than to accept studying at Hogwarts, no matter the dangers he would face or the slander he would have to endure. The truth of the matter is, after Harry defeated Voldemort, Albus wanted the boy under his complete control."

"**Why?**"

"My brother hates to be surpassed in anything. However, during the war, hundreds of people died and Albus, the supposed most powerful wizard, was incapable to prevent it. His Order of the Phoenix was a sham, a group of scared wizards and witches who foolishly thought that fighting alongside him would protect them against Voldemort. The idiots were so blinded they never realized my brother used them like pawns on his checkers' board, not caring if they lived or died as long as it would serve his strategy – but Albus was losing this game! Our world was almost lost, Albus himself was overwhelmed, hope was crushed under the Death Eaters' heels and then, salvation came in the form of a baby. Believe me, it was quite a shock for my brother to learn that our bane had been destroyed by a child. But unlike what Albus can repeat until his tongue dries out, Harry's survival wasn't solely due to his mother's sacrifice."

"What do you mean?"

"Lily Potter gave up her life to save her son, it is undeniable. But Albus conveniently omits the other part of the truth: Harry also survived thanks to the incredible magic he has within him."

"WHAT?"

"In spite of his young years, Harry can be more powerful than Albus and Voldemort put together! Just think about it, Sirius: during the war, dozens of witches fought to the death to protect their children but it didn't stop Death Eaters to wipe out entire families. Why? Were the other witches' sacrifices less than Lily Potter's? Of course not! Mothers ready die for their kids feel towards them an immaculate love, the same kind Harry received from Lily. So why didn't it protect the other children as well? If a mother's sacrifice is the price to pay to save a child, how is it that it has worked only with Harry? Well, here's your answer: in the case of a kid gifted with extraordinary powers, _**a mother's sacrifice acts like a **__**catalyst**_. Lily's death fuelled Harry's mighty magic to the maximum; this is why Voldemort's _Avada Kedavra _curse bounced against the baby's forehead like a rubber ball. He was reduced to pieces and the shockwave of Harry's powers destroyed the Potter's house."

"But Harry was a normal baby! As an infant, he could make Teddy bears float in the air, and when he turned one year old he could ride a toy broom at a foot away from the floor, but that's the kind of things all children can do."

"That's Nature's way to protect exceptional magic kids, young Sirius. Their powers usually don't reveal themselves before the age of six or seven years old: by this time, their Mums and Dads have taught them how to behave and use their talents wisely. Otherwise, parents of a gifted baby would become an easy target for gossip or resentment, making life unbearable – not to mention journalists banging at the front door day and night to get the best photo for the _Daily Prophet_. Ministry representatives could also barge in to get a better look at the "little marvel"... and even confiscating the baby in order to study him or her, regardless of the parents' desperate cries. All this would have been for the greater good, of course!"

"Holy God!"

"A revolting thought, I know, but some high-ranking persons would kill for the littlest chance to get their hands on an exceptional infant, and then parade themselves as: "The great wizard who is training so well the little gifted". Being the tutor of a precocious student is every teacher's dream and my brother is no exception. _Vanitas vanitatum est omnia vanitas_! But in Harry's case, his powers were revealed much earlier, due to dramatic circumstances. Had James and Lily not died, he would have lived a normal childhood and his parents would have taught him at an early age not to repress, but to be discreet with his magic abilities."

TBC...


End file.
